


What You Have Tamed

by Anthemyst



Series: Generations Past and Future - Companion Fics [5]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Companion Piece, M/M, Spinoff, i love these two so much, i want them to go on all the adventures, this is probably gonna get really episodic really fast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthemyst/pseuds/Anthemyst
Summary: Ferdinand Benavente got over being akumatized years ago. He told himself he wouldn't let it affect his life moving forward, that he wouldn't let it keep him from having the life he wanted.He never dreamed that one day he'd want the man who akumatized him in the first place.Characters are from theGenerations Past and Futureseries.





	1. Carmen

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up around the end of Chapter Nine of [No Happily Ever Afters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8496568/chapters/19470919). Chapters you might want to reread from that fic before starting this one are 5, 6 and 9.

Ferd’s oldest sister Carmen was normally a very careful driver. Normally, though, she wasn't driving to pick up her baby brother after he'd been held hostage by the local mob for a week. She pulled up next to the sidewalk so fast that Ferd instinctively jumped back, screeched to a halt, and practically flew out of the driver’s seat.

“Ferdy!”

“Hi, Carmen,” Ferd said. “Thanks for-” Carmen cut him off with a frantic embrace.

“Oh, God, what did they do to you?”

“Nothing, I'm fine, it's-”

“How safe are you?” Carmen asked frantically, pulling away suddenly and looking back and forth down either side of the road. “Do we need to get you out of the city? The country? Are-”

“Carmen, calm down, it's fine,” Ferd said. “We don't need to worry about the Morenos anymore.”

Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked skeptically. “After a week of refusing to let you go, no matter what I did, after I harassed everybody I could reach, after I dragged the police into it, and nothing had any effect at all, now they're letting you go just like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ferd replied. Carmen’s eyebrow went up further, and Ferd sighed. “Okay, to make a long story short, Hector had his brother under some kind of loyalty spell. Jonathan broke it, and Javier immediately grabbed power back. Javier says he now owes me a great debt, which by the way I have _no_ intention of ever cashing in, and I'm pretty sure I won't be hearing from Hector ever again.” He paused. “Actually, I'm pretty sure nobody will be hearing from Hector ever again.”

Carmen blinked. “Oh,” she said. She looked around. “Wait, where is Jonathan?”

“He, um, he's on his way back to Paris.”

Carmen’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You let him _leave_? What is _wrong_ with you? The man flies halfway across Europe to rescue you, and you-”

“Ugh, Carmen, don't yell at me right now,” Ferd groaned. “I’ve just had the worst week of my life, I'm not in the mood.”

Carmen pressed her lips together. It was clearly requiring a great effort on her part to stop mid-lecture, but she managed. “You're right, I'm sorry.” She paused. “Although sometimes, Ferd, I swear it's like you don't think at _all_ before you-sorry, I'll stop.” Carmen sighed and looked at her brother more closely. “All right, if we don't need to get you out of the country, we should take you to a hospital.”

“No.”

“You could have a _concussion_ , Ferd. What did they-”

“Carmen, please, can we just go home?”

Carmen pursed her lips again. “Fine,” she said, “ _if_ you promise to tell me the second you start feeling nauseous, or dizzy, or foggy-headed, or you're getting a headache, or your pupils are dilating, or-”

“First of all,” Ferd interrupted, “I can't watch my own pupils. Second, it is really disconcerting how you can rattle off the symptoms of a concussion at the drop of a hat.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Four kids, two grandkids so far, and not a lick of self-preservation instinct in any one of them. Of _course_ I know what the symptoms of a concussion are.” She sighed. “All right, let’s go home.”

 

~~~

 

Ferd filled his sister in on the details of his abduction during the hour long drive back to their mother’s B&B in La Mancha. Ferd had been staying there for a few weeks now, since the semester he’d spent teaching in Madrid had ended. She continued to make an annoyed face whenever Jonathan came up in the retelling of it. Carmen was the oldest of five kids, had raised four of her own, and was a very involved grandmother, so she’d spent most of her sixty years on Earth looking after others. Scolding came very, _very_ naturally to her. But nurturing also came naturally to Carmen, and it wasn’t exactly hard to tell that her brother needed a break right now.

Of course, she could also tell there were parts of the story Ferd wasn’t telling her, and _nothing_ came more naturally to her than getting secrets out of people.

She held back for a little over a week. The rest of the family was overjoyed at Ferd’s return, which obviously was to be expected. But it was also clearly a little exhausting for Ferd, who’d been living on his own since his twenties and didn’t always fall back so easily into the dynamics of a giant family.

Carmen found Ferd out by the little garden out back one afternoon, sitting on a bench by himself and watching their mother’s chickens wander the yard. She sat down next to him.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Hmm? Oh, fine,” Ferd replied easily. “I was enjoying the first moment I got to myself in this place, until you showed up,” he added, with a teasing grin.

“Are you sure?” Carmen asked gently. “After everything that’s happened to you, if you needed some time… nobody would blame you, if you took another semester off. You could stay here, I know Mom would love to-”

“No,” Ferd interrupted. “I appreciate it, but I have to get back to Paris. I miss the university, my students. I love it here, but after everything… I don’t know, Carmen, I’m just homesick more than anything, I guess.”

Carmen nodded. They sat in an easy silence for a while. It was Carmen who finally broke it.

“I still can't believe you let Jonathan go back to Paris,” she said.

Ferd tensed. “Well I can't believe you called him in the first place,” he replied defensively. “Do you have _any_ idea how awkward that was? How surreal?”

“He got you out, didn't he? I would have called a hundred of your ex-boyfriends if it got you back.”

“Thanks, Carmen, that's sweet,” Ferd said dryly. “Although I feel compelled to point out that, technically, Jonathan isn't an ex. You have to date first to be an ex.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Is that why you let him leave?” she asked. “You're still mad he never called you back?”

“I'm not mad about that,” Ferd insisted.

“You should have heard him when I called,” Carmen said. “I'd spent days calling everyone I could think of, and nobody could help, or _would_ help, not if it meant going against the Morenos. I was either yelling or pleading until I was blue in the face, I was tearing my hair out, Ferdy. But then I called Jonathan, and…” Carmen sighed and looked at her brother. “Ferd, I don't think I even finished the sentence before he was online buying a ticket for the next flight to Madrid. Just, ‘Ferd’s in trouble,’ that's all I needed to say. After eight years.”

“Oh,” Ferd said quietly, not meeting his sister’s gaze. “Huh.”

“So what happened, that saving you wasn't enough for you to want him to stick around?”

“It's not like I made him leave,” Ferd lied.

“He would have stayed if you'd asked and you know it.”

Ferd took a moment to gather his thoughts. “He got caught at first. The initial rescue went south,” Ferd explained. “So we were imprisoned together. For hours. And I gave him a hard time about never calling, because I'm an idiot I guess, and he snapped and told me why he never did. And, uh… it was a _really_ good reason, Carmen.”

Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Turns out that before we met, he… our paths crossed, I guess you could say. He did something that had a pretty negative effect on my life, and he figured if I knew about it I wouldn't be interested in dating.” Ferd laughed and leaned back. “I thought he was right, too. A week ago I thought I'd be mad about it forever. And now… I don't know. I'm less sure about that.”

Carmen scoffed. “You never stay mad about anything,” she said.

“Yeah,” Ferd agreed, “I guess that’s true.” He fell silent again.

“So now what?” Carmen asked after a minute.

“So now…” Ferd looked down at his hands, tapping his thumbs together nervously for a moment. “Okay, maybe I'm not so mad,” he admitted, “but there's a world of difference between not being mad about something and actually forgiving it, you know?”

“This terrible thing he did,” Carmen asked, “it was over eight years ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And are you over it?”

Ferd shrugged. “Yeah, for the most part. As much as anyone can be over anything, I guess.”

“And is it still negatively impacting your life?”

“Well… no, my life's pretty much back on track now.”

“And he’s sorry?”

Ferd considered this silently for a moment. “Yeah, you know, I really think he is,” he said.

“And he's not going to do it again?”

Ferd laughed. “No, definitely not.”

“So what's the problem?”

Ferd sighed. “You wouldn't say that if you knew-”

“Oh, just tell me what he did,” Carmen interrupted impatiently.

Ferd hesitated. “I don't know if-”

“You know I'll get it out of you eventually anyway, Ferdy.”

Ferd considered this for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said, “but you can't tell anyone.”

“Fine,” Carmen agreed easily.

“No, seriously, Carmen, I mean it,” Ferd said. His voice was suddenly hard, serious, almost unfamiliar. “I know how secrets work in this family,” he continued. “People say they won't tell, and then forty-eight hours later Mom’s on the phone talking about it with her second cousins and it's all, ‘Oh, I didn't think you meant Carlos, obviously I was going to tell Carlos,’ or, ‘Well Izzy asked, what was I supposed to say?’ and I'm telling you right now that _cannot_ happen this time. You can't tell your husband, you can't tell Mom, you can't tell anybody, got it?”

Carmen’s eyes widened. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I promise. Nobody will hear anything from me about it.”

Ferd took a deep breath and let it out. “He akumatized me.”

It took Carmen a moment to place the verb, which had far less significance outside of Paris, but then her expression cleared. “That's it?” she asked.

Ferd’s jaw dropped. “That's _it_? Really?”

Carmen shrugged. “I'm not trying to minimize it, I know it was awful for you at the time, but… I don't know, that just doesn't seem like it would be a dealbreaker for you.”

Ferd narrowed his eyes. “That is the absolute last reaction I was expecting.”

“You're making a very big deal out of this, Ferdy, it's not like you.”

“No,” Ferd said, “I'm pretty sure I'm understating it, actually.”

“The only thing I'm confused about,” Carmen said slowly, “is why you didn't recognize him. Besides, I thought the person who akumatized you was someone you already knew. Someone named… Paul somebody?”

It took Ferd a moment to figure out what his sister was talking about. “Oh!” he exclaimed, suddenly understanding. “No, no, no, you completely misunderstood what I said. Anyway, Paul didn't akumatize me, he just pissed me off enough that I was vulnerable to it.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Same difference.”

“It really isn't,” Ferd said.

“Well, under _that_ definition the person who akumatized you was… was…” Carmen gasped suddenly and covered her mouth in shock.

“Thank you,” Ferd said, “ _that_ is the reaction I was looking for.”

“My _God_ , Ferd! Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“ _Jonathan_?” Carmen said, disbelieving. “Jonathan is the evil butterfly man?”

“You know, I don't think that was his official title,” Ferd replied dryly. “But yeah. Apparently that was him.”

“Did he say why?”

Ferd shrugged. “Something about saving his sister. She went missing. I didn't really ask too many follow-up questions.”

Carmen was silent for a while. “You kissed a _supervillain_ , Ferdy.”

Ferd sighed. “Yep.”

 

~~~

 

Ferd returned to Paris a week later, as soon as his mother could finally bear to part with him. His departure was a crowded and noisy affair, like everything in Ferd’s family, and so Ferd almost didn’t notice when Carmen pressed something into his hand as she embraced him. He looked at it, then raised an eyebrow at his sister.

“Is this the phone number I think it is?” he asked.

“Can’t hurt to have it,” she replied. “Whatever else he is, Jonathan seems like a resourceful friend to have in a pinch. And you seem to attract trouble lately, Ferdy.”

For a moment Ferd looked like he wanted to protest, but then he shrugged and slipped the number into his pocket before hugging Carmen again. “Thanks for everything,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have gotten back if it hadn’t been for you, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Carmen said affectionately, “this whole family would fall apart without me, I know.”

For the first few weeks back, Ferd was too busy to think for very long about anything other than teaching. But then the chaos of a newly beginning semester died down, and Ferd found his thoughts wandering back to the same place over and over.

Alone in his apartment one afternoon, a few weeks after classes had begun, Ferd pulled out the number his sister had given him. It was wearing out quickly, and would probably soon become unreadable. Not that it mattered, since Ferd had looked at it so many times he’d memorized it by now.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Ferd started to go over his interactions with Jonathan from eight years ago, reinterpreting everything now that he knew the truth.

To begin, there was that look of horror on Jonathan’s face when Ferd had casually mentioned being akumatized. At the time, Ferd assumed Jonathan was a fellow victim, or at least that he'd been traumatizingly close to one of the attacks, but now it was clear what Jonathan’s reaction had actually been.

Guilt.

And his insistence at breaking the hex for free, his downright irritation when Ferd had suggested paying him for the work or even reimbursing Jonathan’s travel expenses, that had been guilt, too. Jonathan hadn't been coming on to Ferd at all, he'd just been trying to atone.

The awkwardness between Jonathan and his sister. That, Ferd hadn't even tried to explain to himself at the time. It had completely baffled him. The woman had been missing and presumed dead for four years. Ferd was pretty sure if something like that had happened to one of his sisters, nobody in the family would ever let her out of their sight, or ever stop embracing her, ever again. But Jonathan and Adele had barely touched at all. Adele had hugged Ferd, and not her own brother.

It made sense now.

And then, the kiss.

That heat. Jonathan’s eager surrender. That brief, blissful moment when Ferd had been so certain Jonathan wanted him as much as he wanted Jonathan. Was there some new interpretation of that, too, now that Ferd knew who Jonathan was?

No. Ferd hadn't misinterpreted any of that. Every other moment of their brief time together, maybe, but not that.

_I really like you, Ferd. But… I can't right now, I wish I could, but…_

And then, nothing. For eight years.

To be fair, Ferd had mostly stopped thinking about Jonathan after the first year. Ferd wasn't one to dwell on lost love, or what might have been. He’d made his interest clear and placed the ball firmly in Jonathan’s court. Ferd had figured if Jonathan didn't want him, that was Jonathan’s loss. Ferd had hoped for something, he hadn't gotten it, he'd moved on.

And then he'd been kidnapped. And Jonathan had come running.

How much of that was guilt?

Probably a lot, honestly. Ferd could hear it in the numb tone of Jonathan’s confession, and in that quiet self-loathing right before he left, when he said he'd never be able to make up for what he'd done.

But it wasn't _entirely_ guilt, was it? There'd been more. The shadow of a grin when Ferd had laughed at his joke. The way Jonathan’s breath had caught when he'd bent over Ferd to remove his handcuffs, their faces mere centimeters apart. His insistence, that he'd meant everything he'd said back then.

Whatever they'd had eight years ago, it was still there. Ferd just had to decide if he was crazy enough to do anything about it.

_If you ever need something, if you ever want my help again for any reason…_

Ferd looked back at the number.

 _Oh, what the hell_ , Ferd finally thought to himself, as he pulled out his phone and began dialing. Life was short, and he was overdue for a midlife crisis anyway.


	2. Beginning

Ferd arrived at the restaurant a good fifteen minutes early, so he was surprised to see his date waiting there already, leaning against the wall a few feet down from the door and looking around nervously. He waved, and a second later Jonathan noticed and straightened hurriedly.

“Ferd! You look good-I mean, it’s good to see you,” Jonathan said, tripping slightly over his words.

“You, too,” Ferd said. “You look less, uh, roughed-up than the last time I saw you.”

Jonathan grinned. “Thanks. Should we go in?”

Soon they were seated at a small table inside, looking over menus. Ferd glanced over the top of his. “We didn’t actually catch up the last time we saw each other, did we?” he asked. “How’s your sister been?”

“Adele? Great,” Jonathan said. “She’s… actually, she’s doing much better than she was when you met her,” he continued. “She was-hitting you was kind of a wake-up call, I think. She started seeing somebody. It helped a lot.”

“I’m really glad to hear it,” Ferd said sincerely.

“And your family?” Jonathan asked. “I know two months ago everything was kind of awful, with your dad passing, but-”

“Things are good,” Ferd said. “Mom’s mostly retired now, Isabella and her husband are basically running the B&B full-time.” Ferd paused. “What have you been up to?”

“Well,” Jonathan said, “after the geis, I realized having projects like that was something I needed. So I started looking into more freelance stuff. Not casting anything myself, obviously, but problem-solving, that kind of thing. It’s been interesting. How’s academia been treating you?”

“Great,” Ferd said. “I’m a first-class full professor now. And I’ve written two books.”

“That’s fantastic. What about?”

“The first one was an annotated collection of Occitan literature,” Ferd told him, “and the second one, which just came out last year, was a biography of Simone Weil.”

“Weil? Really?”

“Yep. Twentieth century philosophy is considerably more modern than my interests usually run, but she’s fascinating.”

“I’ll say,” Jonathan said, somewhat eagerly. “Did you know she dabbled in spellcraft near the end of her life? She pioneered some really interesting fusions of western and eastern structures. Most of her work’s still in use.”

“I did know that,” Ferd replied lightly, “on account of I wrote that biography about her.”

Jonathan's eyes widened. “Right,” he said, his face flushing slightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Jonathan realized that Ferd was amused, not offended, and he trailed off mid apology. “Tell me more?” he asked. Ferd smiled and started talking.

 

~~~

 

“Do you want to walk around a bit?” Ferd asked after dinner, the second they were outside.

“I’d like that,” Jonathan said immediately. “Got somewhere specific in mind?”

“Oh, anywhere,” Ferd said. “I just love walking around this city.” They began to walk towards the Seine. “I love everything about this city, actually. I was… seven, I think? When I first visited. Family trip, during the off-season.” He grinned at the memory. “In retrospect I’m not sure how my parents managed to wrangle five kids in a foreign city and make it look as effortless as they did. But, yeah, ever since then I’ve been obsessed. You’d think after living here for over thirty years the magic would have worn off eventually, but it never quite did.”

Ferd continued to describe the trip as they walked, as well as return trips he'd taken as a teen, his decision to focus his academic career on the country’s history as much as possible, and his ultimate decision to move to Paris and pursue an advanced degree.

“... and it's not like I needed any encouragement at that point,” Ferd said, “but if I hadn't already thought moving here was a dream come true, a few weeks after I finished unpacking who should come onto the scene but Paris’ first superhero in… what was it, twenty years?”

Jonathan blinked. “Adele? Um… it was almost thirty, I think. You really started grad school the same time she went active?”

“Yep. I never, like, got saved by her or anything… in fact, I don't think I ever even saw her in person, but I was still psyched.”

Jonathan grinned. “Big superhero nerd as a kid?”

“Weren't we all? And La Mancha didn't exactly see a lot of supernatural action when I was growing up.”

The path along the river curved a bit, and as they followed it the Eiffel Tower suddenly came into view. Ferd stopped in his tracks and stared up at it. “Isn’t it something at night?” he asked, and Jonathan stopped as well and looked up at the landmark. “I could look at it for hours.” They stood there for a few minutes, and then Ferd glanced over casually at Jonathan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the Tower since they’d stopped. “How many times did you destroy it, again?” he asked, his tone purely conversational.

“Um.” Jonathan’s face went slightly red. “Uh.”

“Sorry, was that too flip for the first date?” Ferd asked. “Or are you always going to get this flustered when I bring it up? Because I gotta warn you, I do not see that getting old.”

“No, it’s… I just wasn’t expecting… I didn’t think you’d be so comfortable talking about it, that’s all. It’s good, I want us to be able to talk about it. Um,” Jonathan glanced at Ferd. “Do you actually want to know the answer to that question, or were you just trying to bring the subject up?”

Ferd shrugged. “Mostly I’m curious to see if you’re the kind of guy who knows the number off the top of his head or not,” he said, and there was a kind of mischievous glint in his eyes that was not doing Jonathan’s attempts to de-fluster any favors.

“Um.” Jonathan cleared his throat. “Seventeen,” he finally mumbled.

“Seventeen? Really? Is that it?”

“Is that _it_?” Jonathan asked indignantly.

“Sorry,” Ferd said quickly, “it’s just, it felt like a lot more at the time.”

“That’s more than once a month!”

“True.”

 

~~~

 

Ferd sighed as they neared an intersection. “I have an early class tomorrow,” he said. “I should probably head back to my place. You’re in the other direction, right?”

“I am,” Jonathan admitted. “I could walk you back, though.”

“Nah,” Ferd said. “If you do that I might invite you in, and that would completely defeat the purpose of going home.” While Jonathan was trying to formulate a response to this, Ferd leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I had a really good time tonight,” Ferd murmured before pulling away, and then he was walking off, grinning and waving as he went.

 

~~~

 

“Aren’t you supposed to wait forty-eight hours before calling?” Ferd asked as he answered his phone the next day, and Jonathan could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Oh, I’m too old for games,” Jonathan said cheerfully. “When can I see you again?”

“Well, I've got an exam to finish writing tonight. What about tomorrow? You can come over to my place, I'll make something. You got any allergies?”

“Really?” Jonathan asked, surprised.

Ferd laughed. “I know what you're thinking, ‘He cooks, too? Is there anything he _can't_ do?’ Well, I don’t want to oversell my abilities here, but my parents did a lot of cooking when I was growing up, for B &B guests, and they were not shy about making their kids help. It rubbed off.”

“No, I… I was just surprised you don't want me taking you out to another nice restaurant is all,” Jonathan said. “You did say… and I really don't mind, actually. I mean, I more than don't mind, I-”

“Ah,” Ferd said. “Well, I figure there's plenty of time for pushing my luck on that front, but… look, don't get me wrong, last night was great, but we couldn't exactly have an open conversation in public, you know?”

There was a pause. “Oh,” Jonathan said, subdued. “Right.”

“And you did offer to tell me the long version of your story,” Ferd continued, “and… well, I've been thinking, and it's probably better if I get that sooner rather than later, you know?”

“Of course,” Jonathan replied, although he didn't sound at all like he agreed.

“If you're that disappointed about not getting to waste money on me, bring an expensive bottle of wine over,” Ferd said. “Does seven work for you?”

 

~~~

 

“Door’s open!” Ferd shouted upon hearing the knock. “Sorry,” he said, as he heard Jonathan enter the kitchen, “I was running late, I'm almost done here. Just gotta finish chopping these-”

“And here I thought you couldn't get more attractive,” Jonathan said, grinning and leaning against the door frame.

Ferd laughed and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah?” he asked. “Aprons do it for you, huh?”

“Mmm. Out of curiosity, is it for protecting your sweater vest from the tomatoes, or for protecting the tomatoes from all the chalk dust on your sweater vest?”

“Jonathan, nothing in my life is safe from chalk dust. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

Their easy banter continued as Ferd directed Jonathan to the kitchen cabinet containing his wine glasses, and as they finished off a few glasses between them while Ferd finished preparing dinner. But in what felt like no time at all, they were sitting down across from each other and the conversation came to a sudden halt. Ferd and Jonathan stared at one another for a few awkward seconds before Jonathan finally spoke.

“So…” Jonathan took a breath. “So what’s the best way to do this? I just start talking, or… or you could ask me questions, I guess? Do you have any?”

“Uh… yeah, one or two,” Ferd said. “I looked up some stuff, after you told me. I know it’s tacky to look a guy up on the internet before asking him out, but under the circumstances-”

“I figured you would,” Jonathan said.

“Right. Well…” Ferd paused, trying to figure out exactly how to phrase his question without sounding accusatory. He finally gave up. “Okay, you said everything was to save Adele, but I looked up the dates and your last attack was about two weeks after she’d been rescued,” Ferd said in a rush.

Jonathan nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, it was.”

“It was really public, too,” Ferd added. “I remember watching the whole story on the news. So there’s no way you missed it.”

“You’re right,” Jonathan agreed. “I didn’t.”

“So?”

“So… okay, I know this isn’t an excuse or anything but just to be clear, I wasn’t thinking very rationally at that point in my life. I was very, _very_ fixated on the major Miraculouses being the answer to everything. But I did consider just surrendering, after Adele returned. I thought about giving her back her Miraculous, throwing myself at her feet, begging for forgiveness. But then I got close enough to feel her emotions, and I couldn’t do it.”

“You couldn't,” Ferd repeated, deadpan.

“She was such a _mess_ , Ferd, there was so much pain twisted inside of her after everything she’d been through, I just, I couldn’t accept it.” Jonathan paused. “And if I’m being completely honest, I probably also couldn’t accept how much of that pain was my fault. So I told myself her return didn’t really change anything, that she still needed to be saved from everything that had happened to her. I told myself I’d get ahold of the major Miraculouses and use them to undo everything, go back in time and do whatever was necessary to make sure she didn’t get captured the second time around. So none of it ever would have happened.”

Ferd’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything for a while. “Would that have worked?” he finally asked.

“No,” Jonathan sighed. “Like I said, I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally back then. If I’d gotten ahold of the major Miraculouses, wielded both of them at the same time, it… I don’t know exactly how it would have gone, but it would have been bad. I might have technically succeeded in undoing all the akumas and Adele’s four years of captivity, but whatever took their place would have been worse. Much worse.”

Ferd considered this for a moment, and then his eyebrows shot up. “Wait,” he said. “Like a… are you saying that of all the fictional models of time travel, the one that's correct is… the _butterfly_ effect?”

“Yeah, trust me, that particular irony was not lost on me,” Jonathan muttered, and Ferd grinned. “Next question?”

“Um… oh, this one’s maybe kind of random and none of my business, but what happened to Paon?”

Jonathan tensed. “What?”

“Well, you said that your sister got caught after her five minute timer popped. But I remember her partner from the nineties, and he wouldn't have needed five minutes to get her to safety. He wouldn't have needed five seconds. So I figured something happened to him. That maybe he died or something, after they retired.”

“No,” Jonathan said, his voice now incredibly tight and controlled, “Paon is still very much alive.”

“But he didn't go with her?”

“You'd _really_ think he would have, wouldn't you?” Jonathan asked, and the bitterness in his tone was impossible to miss.

Ferd hesitated. “I've hit a nerve,” he finally said.

Jonathan let out a frustrated sigh. “Paon’s her husband.”

Ferd blinked. “The fashion designer?” he asked skeptically. “Really? I can't in a million years picture-wait. Never mind. The glamor broke. Now I can picture it perfectly.” Ferd shook his head. “That doesn't get less weird, does it?”

“No,” Jonathan said. “And trust me, it can get weirder.”

Ferd nodded. “So he just didn't go with her?”

“It was complicated. They didn't see eye to eye on their retirement after a while. So when the Tibet crisis came up, and Gabriel refused to even entertain the idea of going to take care of it, Adele went off on her own without telling him. To prove it was safe for them to get back in the game.”

“Oh.” Ferd hesitated again. “That doesn't sound like it's entirely Paon’s fault.”

“I don't blame him for that,” Jonathan said defensively. “It's what he did _after_ she disappeared.”

“Which was?”

“Not a fucking thing, that's what. He flew to Tibet, and he was back a week later declaring her a completely lost cause. He just _gave up on her_!” Jonathan seemed to suddenly realize he was shouting now, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “And…” he was suddenly subdued, deflated, “and that's what I should have done, apparently. Everyone would have been so much better off if I'd just given up on her like Gabriel did.”

“Well… sorry, I don't think I can bring myself to disagree with you on that point,” Ferd said wryly, and Jonathan snorted, “but if one of my sisters disappeared, doing nothing probably wouldn't be on the table for me, either. I wouldn’t go full supervillain,” Ferd added quickly, “but I doubt I'd be able to do nothing.”

Jonathan nodded. “I can't picture you as a supervillain, anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still having trouble picturing you as one, honestly,” Ferd said quietly. “But this is helping.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said flatly. “Great.”

“No, I mean it, Jonathan. I… if we’re going to work, I'm going to have to wrap my head around it first, don't you think?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, you're right. Any other questions?”

“Not really. Why don't you just start telling the story,” Ferd suggested, “and I'll just interrupt if I think of any?”

“Okay.” Jonathan took a deep breath. “Well… you know Adele got her Miraculous back in ‘95. She told me about it a few weeks in, and I wanted to be helpful, so I immediately started reading every book I could get my hands on…”

 

~~~

 

“... so I showed up at our parents’ place in the country and waited for her. Which wasn't… I shouldn't have ambushed her like that. But she didn't tell me to get lost like I expected, at least.”

“That was the first time she'd seen you in four years?” Ferd asked. Jonathan nodded. “Wow. She must have felt conflicted.”

“No,” Jonathan said numbly, “she was pretty straightforwardly furious.” He sighed. “Anyway, I found out about the geis, because she kept trying to say things like she wished I’d died only to choke halfway through the sentence. Anyway, I offered to break it. And, uh, and I didn't see her again until the day you met her, actually.”

Ferd nodded. “How are you two now?” he asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “Better than I ever imagined we’d be, back then. But not…well, things are still different.” Jonathan looked across the table at Ferd. They'd been sitting there for hours now, dinner long since finished, but Jonathan hadn’t noticed the passage of time until that moment, or given much thought to what would come now that he’d finished. “Did that… was that a long enough version for you?”

Ferd let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that was very long, thanks.”

“Any more questions? Things I should clear up?”

Ferd shook his head. “No, that’s more than enough for now. I, um, might need a little time to absorb it all, though. So I’ll call you this time around? If that’s okay.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. “Yeah, of course. I'll go.” He stood and grabbed his coat. “I can show myself out,” he added, as Ferd got up and began following.

Ferd rolled his eyes. “You really are dramatic, you know that?” he asked as he followed Jonathan to the door. “This was… okay, it was awkward at first,” Ferd admitted, opening his apartment door and stepping aside, “but it was really interesting, too. I’m glad you came over.”

“Me, too,” Jonathan said as he exited. “You're the first person I've ever… I mean, I never told anyone any of that, and-” Jonathan turned back around suddenly and hugged Ferd. “Thanks,” he said softly, before lightly kissing Ferd’s cheek. “You're a really good listener.”

 

~~~

 

Ferd called three days later, in the early afternoon.

“Are you free now?” he asked Jonathan. “Sorry, I know that’s short notice, but I’ve got a few hours to kill. I know that’s not really enough time to do anything substantial, but there’s a park near campus I like to go to. We could meet up.”

There was a pause. “Sure,” Jonathan finally said. “That sounds nice.”

Ferd arrived at the park first. Jonathan found him sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond, and he sat down next to Ferd quickly, startling the man.

“Oh, you made it-”

“Look, Ferd, before you say anything,” Jonathan interrupted, staring straight ahead, his voice dead serious, “I just want to say that… that I never in a million years expected you to call me. You'll never know how much it means to me that you did. That you were even willing to give this a shot. And no matter how this goes I will always, for the rest of my life, remember this as you giving me far more than I deserve.”

“Oh,” Ferd said, puzzled. “Um. Yeah, sure. Glad to hear it? Sorry, I don’t actually know how to respond to that.”

“You don't have to respond,” Jonathan said quietly, still not meeting Ferd’s eyes. “You can just say what you asked me here to say.”

“Well, I didn't have a speech prepared like you apparently did,” Ferd said casually, leaning back. “I just thought we could hang out until my next class. Oh, and I don't know how interested you are in the Crusades but there's a guest lecturer visiting the university tomorrow afternoon and I thought we could-” Ferd noticed the look of confusion that flashed across Jonathan’s face and he stopped talking abruptly. “Oh my God,” he said, comprehension dawning, “you thought I was breaking up with you.”

“Well… yeah,” Jonathan said. “You're not? You… I mean, you said you needed time to think, and then three days later you suddenly need to see me right away, in the middle of a weekday, in a very public, neutral location where we can both easily go our separate ways-”

“Is that how you're supposed to break up with someone? Wow, I have been doing that _all_ wrong,” Ferd interrupted, grinning. Jonathan didn't smile back. “No, I just wanted to see you, that's all.”

“Even after hearing everything? Knowing for certain now that I didn't have any kind of excuse after all?”

“No offense, Jonathan,” Ferd said lightly, “but it never occurred to me for a second that you might. That's not what getting the full story was ever about. I just needed to make sure it was something I could live with, that's all.”

“And it is?”

“Yeah. I think so, anyway.” Ferd glanced at Jonathan. “You know, we’ve been pretty focused on answering my questions so far, but now that I think about it you seem a hell of a lot more confused than I am.”

Jonathan sighed. “I just don't understand why you don't hate me.”

“Oh, I don't really hate anybody, Jonathan.”

Jonathan snorted. “That is not something we have in common.”

“I didn't really think it would be,” Ferd replied.

“Okay, fine,” Jonathan said, “you don't hate me because you don't hate anybody. I don't know why you want to have anything to do with me ever again, then.”

Ferd shrugged. “Honestly, Jonathan, I've been over being akumatized for a very long time now. Finding out it was _you_ , that was hard at first, sure. But it's not like I expect everyone I date to have a spotless history.”

“It's a pretty big fucking spot, Ferd.”

“Yeah, but it's still just one year out of your entire life. A life that, from the sound of it, had a lot of good, too. Including, I'll remind you, saving _my_ life, which-maybe I'm biased here-I'm somewhat fond of. I’m not going to judge you without taking all of that into account, too. I know what it's like, you know, to be judged only by the lowest point in your life and nothing else, and it sucks. I try not to do that to others.”

Jonathan was silent for a moment, but then he groaned softly. “Because of me,” he said. “You know what that's like because of me. Because people judged you for being akumatized.”

“Yeah,” Ferd agreed. “Because of you. But the principle stands.”

“Jesus,” Jonathan muttered, “you're just _perfect_ , aren't you?”

Ferd raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You're this perfect, forgiving-”

“Jonathan-”

“-well-adjusted guy-”

“Jonathan-”

“-that I am _never_ going to deserve to be with-”

“ _Jonathan_.”

“-and you-”

Rolling his eyes, Ferd leaned over and kissed Jonathan before he could finish the sentence. It was their first real kiss in eight years, and Ferd was pleasantly surprised at how the real thing held up to the vintage memory.

“Is that the only way to get you to shut up?” Ferd asked, after pulling away a minute later.

“... Yeah, pretty much,” Jonathan whispered back, breathless.

“Noted. Jonathan, listen.” Ferd fixed Jonathan with a stare. “I didn't call you last week to prove to myself how over being akumatized I am, I didn't do it to be forgiving, or to be the bigger man, or whatever else you think is going on here. I asked you out for purely selfish reasons. I like you, and I thought being with you might make me happy. Which, so far, it does. So you can stop worrying about which of us is the better person, or who deserves who, because honestly? I could not care less. Got it?”

Dazed, Jonathan nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered, “got it.”

Ferd grinned, relieved. “Good,” he said, before leaning in again for another kiss.


	3. Tumblr Drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so apologies in advance to anyone who follows me on tumblr, because all the stuff in this chapter has been posted there already over the past...two? years, I just wanted to have it all on AO3 in (roughly) chronological order. BUT reading through all these has maybe inspired me to write more, hopefully in the near future! If you don't follow me on tumblr, enjoy reading an extremely slapdash assortment of drabbles and snippets of these two, spanning roughly their entire pre-Heroes relationship.

Jonathan entered Ferd’s classroom and stood in the back, watching the end of the lecture quietly. Ferd noticed him, but waited until the class was over five minutes later before waving him to the front.

“Hey, you,” Ferd said, grinning. “I thought you were tied up with clients until tonight.”

“Last-minute reschedule,” Jonathan said. “Thought I’d swing by and see if I could learn a thing or two. I like watching you work,” he added, and Ferd’s grin widened. “Question, though, why do you need,” Jonathan looked over Ferd’s shoulder at the classroom chalkboard and counted silently for a moment, “eighteen erasers if you never use any of them?”

“Huh?” Ferd turned around. “Where did those come from?”

“Aw, man, you ruined it!”

Jonathan turned around to face about five students still packing up their books, all of whom were varying degrees of annoyed. “Excuse me?”

“Problem, Gerard?” Ferd asked.

“Yeah, we’ve been adding one a day to see how many erasers there have to be before you actually notice one and use something other than your sweater sleeve. We almost made it to twenty!”

Jonathan wasn’t quite able to bite back a grin as he looked back at his boyfriend. Ferd looked at Gerard silently for a moment, then calmly picked up one of the eighteen erasers and threw it at his student’s head.

 

* * *

 

They’d kissed before, but somehow this felt different. More urgent, more decided. Ferd was done waiting, done taking this slow, he couldn’t even remember why he’d thought he should. He'd wanted this for over eight years now, wasn’t that enough time wasted?

Ferd took a step backwards, towards his bedroom. He tried to pull Jonathan with him without interrupting the kiss, but Jonathan pulled back. “Are you sure?” Jonathan whispered.

Ferd grinned. “You're the empath, you tell me.” And then they were back to kissing, and Ferd couldn't have said how they got to the bedroom exactly, but they did. Jonathan hesitated at the edge of the bed.

“I don't deserve this,” Jonathan whispered.

“Oh, who cares?” Ferd replied impatiently, kissing him again, grabbing his shirt, falling backwards and pulling Jonathan down with him.

And then Jonathan was over him, propping himself up with one hand for balance while the other hand started unbuttoning Ferd’s shirt. Jonathan started kissing his way down Ferd’s neck, and about four in he found a spot that sent an electric current down Ferd’s spine. Jonathan grinned. “Right there, huh?” he murmured, fixating on it. Ferd couldn't think straight, not with someone who was in his head, who knew exactly where and how to touch him, to drive him as wild as possible. Somehow this aspect of being with an empath hadn't occurred to him.

An empath…

A thought came to Ferd suddenly, unbidden, unwelcome, and he tried to shake it off but it wouldn't quit.

Almost immediately, Jonathan pulled back and looked Ferd in the eye. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“Wow,” Ferd replied lightly. “You, uh, you’ve really got that empathy thing on a hair trigger, huh?”

“Is that what's bothering you? Because we can-I can-I mean, I can't right _now_ , but we can stop and I can look into setting something up that would block it, if that's-it wouldn't last very long, or I would have mentioned it already, but if it's only bothering you in this context it would be long enough for us to…” Jonathan trailed off. “That's not it, is it?”

“Nope.”

“So?”

Ferd looked up at Jonathan. “You want this, right? As much as I do?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Because clearly you can tell _exactly_ how much I want this. And you feel guilty. And I know I've been making a lot of, like, jokes and stuff about that. About making you paying for dinner, or whatever. But I would _never_ want this if you were just doing it because you still felt like you owed me. You know that, right?”

Jonathan blinked, still breathing somewhat heavily. “ _You’re_ worried about taking advantage of _me_ ,” he finally said.

“Well, yeah.”

“God, that's hot.” Jonathan returned to covering Ferd’s neck with dizzying kisses, and that was the end of Ferd’s concerns.

 

~~~

 

“Wow,” Jonathan said afterward, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling in a daze. “I mean, I knew logically it would be better as an empath, but _wow_.”

“You-” Lying next to him, Ferd tilted his head to the side to look at Jonathan. “That was your first time since becoming an empath?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you became an empath ten years ago.”

Jonathan was already flushed, but his cheeks managed to redden. “Correct.”

“So… so that's what it's like with you when you're _ten years_ out of practice.”

Jonathan grinned. “Guess so.”

“Holy shit.”

 

* * *

 

Ferd was in the middle of dicing tomatoes in his kitchen when Jonathan arrived that evening. Letting himself in, he walked right up behind Ferd, sliding his arms around Ferd’s waist, nuzzling his neck briefly.

“Hello, Ferdinand,” Jonathan murmured. It was meant to be seductive, maybe a little silly just because of how overt it was. And that would have been great, except Jonathan’s voice was just a little too low. Just a little too close to how it had sounded the first time Ferd had ever heard it.

For the briefest second, a cold shiver ran up Ferd’s spine. He shook it off almost immediately, but it didn’t matter because Jonathan had felt it as clearly as Ferd had.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Jonathan swore, immediately releasing Ferd and stepping away from him. “I-Jesus, I'm so sorry, that was idiotic.”

“It's fine, Jonathan.”

“Should I go?”

“What? No.” Ferd dropped the knife on the cutting board and turned around.

“You're upset.”

“Because you're making something out of nothing,” Ferd said, defensive. “You just… startled me, that's all. People accidentally startle each other all the time.”

“That's not all it was. I should-” Jonathan was already reaching for the coat he'd thrown on the counter.

“Jonathan, you _have_ to stop doing that,” Ferd said, exasperated.

“Doing what?”

“Panicking! I'm not-you have to stop treating me like some fragile glass ornament, I'm not going to break into a million pieces over something like that.”

“I don't think you're fragile,” Jonathan insisted.

“Then why do you always get so _worried_ ,” Ferd asked, annoyed, “every time the slightest thing-”

“Because I love you and I'm terrified I'm going to fuck this up!” Jonathan said in a rush. A few seconds later, what he'd just said finally caught up to him. But Ferd’s initial reaction was simply shock so Jonathan said nothing, waiting nervously.

“You shouldn't be,” Ferd finally said. “Terrified, that is. I knew your past when I asked you out, you know, it's not news to me.”

“You said you didn't know if it would be a deal breaker or not.”

Ferd’s eyes widened. “You think the jury’s still out on that? Jonathan, that was _months_ ago. It was before we’d been together at all, before I knew if we even worked or not. Before I'd connected the two different versions of you I'd been given, seen how they could possibly be the same person.”

“So…” Jonathan was blinking a little too rapidly now, “so now you have, then. Now you look at me and see Hawkmoth.” He leaned against the counter, and after a moment Ferd walked over next to him.

“More like I think of Hawkmoth,” Ferd replied, “and laugh to myself at the idea of ever finding him frightening again, now that I know he’s your dorky ass.”

Jonathan let out a small laugh. “Oh.”

Ferd wrapped an arm around Jonathan, and Jonathan leaned his head on Ferd’s shoulder. “I love you too, you know,” Ferd said softly.

 

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious,” Ferd said.

“Why not?” Jonathan asked, still grinning. “You said you didn’t have much work to do over the spring break, that the week was wide open for us to do anything.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t mean you had to fly me to Cairo and take me on an expensive tour of Egypt for the week,” Ferd said, still staring at the brochure in shock.

“I know I don’t have to,” Jonathan said. “I want to. Look.” Jonathan took a breath. “I love traveling. But, barring three of the most miserable years of my life in South Asia, I haven’t done much of it in decades. And it’s been even longer since I had someone I actually want to go traveling with. I know it’s a little early in the relationship for this step, but I love you and I want to see all these ancient temples and antiquities through your eyes.”

“Antiquities,” Ferd murmured. “My one weakness.” He grinned, then leaned over and kissed Jonathan.

 

* * *

 

Jonathan Dumas regretted setting foot inside the animal shelter roughly thirty seconds after entering. That’s how long it had taken Ferd to scoop up the black cat lounging on the abandoned front desk, gently press the poor creature’s claws out on one paw, and begin swiping them at Jonathan.

“This is about how it went down, right?” Ferd asked his partner, who was trying and failing to ignore him. Ferd made a hissing noise. “Die, die!“ He turned the cat towards himself. "Don’t worry, kitty,” he said reassuringly, “I’m a historian, I guarantee this reenactment is a thousand percent authentic.”

“Put that thing _down_ , Ferd.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Ferd replied cheerfully. He held the ridiculously patient cat up to Jonathan’s face. “Scratch your nephew’s ears.”

 

* * *

 

Jonathan Dumas took a good thirty seconds to fully take in the sight of the most tackily decorated room he'd ever seen before turning to Ferd, one eyebrow raised.

“I'm not even sorry,” Ferd said, “so don't bother trying to give me a hard time about it.”

“From now on, I make all hotel reservations.”

“Come on, you don't want the authentic experience?”

“There is no way this is the authentic experience.”

Ferd scoffed. “Like you'd know. This is your first honeymoon, too.”

“I can't believe you told them we’re newlyweds.”

“We are newlyweds.”

“I'm sixty-one, you're fifty-nine, we’re not newly anything anymore.” Jonathan yawned. “I didn't get any sleep on the plane, I'm jetlagged, I'm passing out on top of all those damn rose petals.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ferd said. “I'm pretty sure using the first day of the honeymoon to catch up on sleep is part of the authentic experience, too.”

 

* * *

 

Jonathan looked over the top of his book at the cat carrier his husband had just brought in to their apartment. “Ferd, what’s that?”

“Oh, Claire asked if we could watch one of the cats until they find him a permanent home,” Ferd replied. “But you know, we were talking about maybe getting a second one so I thought we’d see if he gets along with Mercutio and maybe…” he trailed off hopefully, then opened the door and pulled the cat out, “…we could keep him? Please? I mean, how cute is he?”

Jonathan looked at the cat, then at his husband incredulously. “Really?”

“What?” Ferd asked.

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, first of all you know I can tell when you’re lying, so I don’t know why you bother. Second, we agreed on one more cat. Not six new cats, one.”

“This is one cat,” Ferd said innocently.

“Really? Because “he” looks less than a month away from having an entire litter. Did you really think you could trick me into adopting a pregnant cat?“

Ferd shrugged. "Worth a shot.”

“Where did you even get an idea like that?”

“The Iliad.”

 

* * *

 

Ferd and Jonathan looked around the empty room in silence for a few moments. “It’s not in here,” Jonathan finally said.

“Nope,” Ferd agreed. “How bad would it be if we were lost?”

“Pretty bad.”

“We can't just go back the way we came?”

“No, that's generally not how cursed mazes work.” Jonathan sighed. “Remind me how we ended up here again?”

“We just followed the directions from your source,” Ferd said, pulling out the list and handing it over. “You’re sure you copied them down right?”

“I triple-checked them before we entered the catacombs,” Jonathan said. “We went up the first two sets of stairs, down the next two, took a left, took a right, took another left, another right, through the second door, through the first, and… it’s supposed to be here. I’m sure we followed it to the-”

“Wait,” Ferd interrupted. He thought for a second, then groaned.

“What?”

“The directions were up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s the Konami Code.”

Jonathan blinked, then looked back at the directions list. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered.

“What are the odds that whoever set the path through this place would have based it on a cheat code from eighties video games?” Ferd asked.

“Considering the path was set two hundred years ago? Pretty low, I’d say. Looks like someone sold us a bill of goods.”

Ferd looked at his watch. “In and out in less than an hour, you said. Straightforward retrieval job, you said. It’ll be fun, you said.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“So now what, we wander these cursed halls until we starve or go mad, is that how it goes?”

“Just give me a minute to think.”

“What we could really use right now,” Ferd said lightly, “is one of those Ariadne Clews that Sal tried to get you to buy. You know, that thing you said was a frivolous upsell, that we definitely wouldn’t need.”

Jonathan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve known Michael Salvatore for over forty years,” he said defensively, “and he’s never not upselling.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, lost in thought. “Got it,” he said a minute later. “We don't need fancy magic string, we've got more than enough yarn on us already.”

“We do?” Jonathan looked pointedly at Ferd’s sweater vest, and Ferd raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we unravel this? This is my favorite sweater vest.”

“Try again.”

“This is my third-favorite sweater vest.”

Jonathan put a hand on his husband's waist and kissed his forehead. “I'll make it up to you,” he promised. Ferd sighed begrudgingly, and Jonathan kissed him again. “Come on, you know I can tell you love it when I get us into these situations,” he murmured.

“Fine, fine, you win.” Ferd began to pull off the sweater. “Next time you want me to undress though, just buy me a drink?”

Jonathan grinned. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

“If you buy this, I’m divorcing you. I mean it this time.”

“That’s okay,” Ferd replied easily. “Mercutio and I will get on just fine without you now that we’ve got this. Well travel the world together, go on all sorts of adventures-”

“You are not putting our cat in that ridiculous astronaut backpack thing,” Jonathan said. “One of us has to be responsible and protect his dignity.”

“Come on, you hate leaving him as much as I do whenever we travel, and we travel all the time. This would be perfect for that hiking trip you want to take next month.”

“No.”

Sighing, Ferd put the bubble pet carrier back on the shelf. “I remember when you used to be fun, you know.”

 

* * *

 

“Jonathan?” Ferd called out as he entered their apartment.

“Yeah?” Jonathan called back from his study.

“Do we have, like… you know those books they have for identifying birds? Do we have anything like that, but for, uh, weird magic creatures?”

“Maybe? I’ll look. Why?”

“Someone dropped off a rabbit at the shelter,” Ferd replied, “only it turns out it’s not really a rabbit. And Claire remembered that solving weird magic problems is kind of your whole deal, so she called me about it.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Jonathan called back. “Did you get a picture of it?”

“Um. No, not exactly.”

It took Jonathan a few seconds to grasp the full implications of this answer, but then he came running, stopping short the moment he saw the fuzzy white thing in his husband’s arms. “Are you fucking insane?” Jonathan asked. “You brought it _home_ with you?”

“Well, the shelter couldn’t keep it,” Ferd said defensively. “It was scaring all the other animals.”

“Ferd, ‘Don’t invite something into your home unless you know what the fuck it is first’ is like Magic Safety 101,” Jonathan said, exasperated. “There are at least a dozen magical pests that are basically impossible to eradicate if you willingly bring them in.”

“Oh, this isn’t a pest,” Ferd said dismissively, scratching the animal behind its ears. “It’s too cute to be a pest.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “How do you know it’s not a rabbit?”

Ferd carried the animal past Jonathan and set it down on their coffee table. “Well, it’s got these weird nubs on its head, like little baby horns,” he said, pointing, “and, uh, sometimes it-” the creature sneezed suddenly, and promptly disappeared, “...does that.”

“It turns invisible,” Jonathan said, deadpan.

“Only for like a minute.”

“Your decision to bring it back to where we live is just getting more and more sensible by the second.”

Ferd scoffed, but before he could respond the third resident of their apartment jumped up on the coffee table and promptly started sniffing the spot where the not-rabbit had vanished from view.

“Ferd, don’t let Mercutio…” Jonathan trailed off as the small gray and white cat calmly began grooming the invisible creature. “Okay,” Jonathan said, “that is… that’s pretty cute, actually.” The creature reappeared suddenly, but this didn’t phase Mercutio in the slightest.

“Aw, they like each other,” Ferd said as their cat started purring softly.

“ _Ferd_. We are _not_ keeping that thing.” Jonathan pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number. “Hey, Sal? You know anything about weird magic rabbits that are sometimes invisible? Uh huh. Renaud? Okay, thanks.” Jonathan hung up, then immediately began scrolling through his contacts again.

“Does he know what it is?” Ferd asked.

“Nah, but he thinks Beth probably does.” Jonathan held his phone back up. “Hi, Beth? It’s Jonathan Dumas.”

“Oh, Jonathan!” the young woman answered brightly. “Got another client for me?”

“Not today,” Jonathan said. “Just looking for some free advice.”

Beth laughed. “Okay, but I’ve only got about ten minutes, so make it quick.”

“Right. So, basically, my husband brought home this horned rabbit that randomly turns invisible from the animal shelter he unofficially volunteers at, and Michael Salvatore thought you might know what the hell it is.”

“Oh, sure,” Beth said immediately. “That sounds like a wolpertinger. I wouldn’t keep it in my apartment if I were you, they’re not exactly domesticated.”

“It’s a what?”

“A wolpertinger,” she repeated slowly. “I’m guessing it’s young, since you didn’t mention anything about it having wings.”

“No,” Jonathan said slowly, “no wings.”

“Yeah,” Beth said, “they’re not dangerous, per se, but they are wild animals. Rich assholes buy them off the black market as exotic pets sometimes. I’ve never heard of anyone dropping one off at an animal shelter, but I guess weirder things have happened.”

“So what do I do with it now?”

“Do you know any rich assholes?” Beth joked.

“Yes, actually,” Jonathan said, as he glanced over at the creature. Ferd was scratching its ears again and cooing something at it in Spanish. “But I’m pretty sure Ferd just named the damn thing, so I think I’m stuck doing whatever the humane thing to do is.”

“That would be taking it back to where it’s from and setting it free,” Beth replied.

“And where’s it from?”

“Bavaria.”

“ _Germany_? I have to take this thing all the way to Germany?”

“Make a long weekend out of it,” Beth suggested. “Listen, I gotta go, but call me if any of your clients need a witch for anything?”

“Sure. Thanks, Beth.” Jonathan hung up and turned back to his husband, sighing. “How do you feel about a road trip that involves smuggling a magical creature over an international border?”

“Sounds romantic,” Ferd replied, grinning. He went back to petting the animal. “See, I told you it wasn’t dangerous.”

“Bringing it back here was still reckless,” Jonathan said, annoyed. “Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you weren’t, like, pathologically chill about everything?”

Ferd raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” he said. “I probably wouldn’t be married to a supervillain, though.”

Jonathan considered this, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good point,” he agreed.


	4. Mercutio

“I’m not making any promises,” Jonathan said, as he and Ferd stepped into the animal shelter. “I’m not really a cat person.”

“You absolutely are,” Ferd replied easily. “You need a cat more than any other person I’ve ever met in my goddamn life.”

“Oh, so this is you doing me a favor, is it?” Jonathan looked around the lobby, but it was deserted except for a black cat lounging on the front desk. “Where is everybody?”

Ferd shrugged and started scratching the cat behind his ears. “They’re pretty understaffed,” he said. “They need more foster homes, volunteers-”

“Don’t push it.”

Grinning, Ferd scooped up the cat and held him up to Jonathan’s face. “Hey, look, it’s your arch-nemesis,” he said.

“Oh my God.”

“How’d the final battle go?” Ferd held up the cat’s front paw, lightly pressing out the poor creature’s claws, and began swiping in Jonathan’s direction. “This is about how it went down, right?” Ferd made a hissing noise. “Die, die!“ He turned the cat towards himself. "Don’t worry, kitty,” he said reassuringly, “I’m a historian, I guarantee this reenactment is a thousand percent authentic.”

“Put that thing down, Ferd.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Ferd replied cheerfully. He held the ridiculously patient cat up to Jonathan’s face. “Scratch your nephew’s ears.”

“I will walk out that door.”

“No you won’t.”

“I thought cats didn’t put up with being manhandled like that?”

“Most don’t.” Jonathan and Ferd turned as a friendly-looking woman approached, smiling. “It’s good to see you again, Ferd.” She held her hand out to Jonathan, who shook it. “Hi, I’m Claire, I run the adoption program here. And to answer your question, Chat Noir here is just about the most laid-back cat in the city, hence why he gets to be the front desk mascot. I know,” she laughed, completely misreading Jonathan’s expression, “the name’s cliche on multiple levels. But we put it to a vote with the kids at the local community center, and it wasn’t even close. You’d be surprised, actually, at how good the real Chat’s been for the city’s felines. We used to have a hell of a time adopting out the black ones, but now they’re the most popular of all.”

“Oh,” Jonathan said politely, “That’s great.”

Claire’s smile brightened. “Ferd tells me you two just moved into an apartment that allows pets?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan said, “but honestly, I’m not really sure about-”

“Oh, of course, of course,” Claire interrupted, “I wouldn’t want you to adopt one unless it felt right, obviously. We’re very good about matching cats to owners, though, a lot of people come in thinking they want one thing because they don’t really know better. Follow me, I’ll get you two set up in one of our rooms in the back. Let’s see, two adults, no kids, I know Ferd’s working hours fluctuate a bit depending on the time of year, what about you? Standard nine-to-five office job, or are you an academic, too?”

“Neither, actually,” Jonathan said, as Claire led them both into a cozy little room with a few chairs and cat beds, “I’m a freelance magic consultant. I mostly work from home.”

“Oh! That sounds fascinating, you’ll have to tell me all about it. Well, off the top of my head I’d say you two are a good fit for one of our calmer young adults. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

“She’s nice,” Jonathan said, once Claire had closed the door behind herself. “Former student?”

“Nope,” Ferd said. “We met at a support group.”

“A support…” Jonathan trailed off as he suddenly realized why Claire looked vaguely familiar. “Really? You want a cat _that_ badly?”

“Oh, I would never dream of suggesting you adopt a cat out of guilt,” Ferd said happily. “Although I will point out that Claire is not just any akuma victim, she’s the _last_ one. You know, the one you akumatized after your sister was safely returned home and everything was completely fine.”

“You are enjoying this far too much, you know that?”

“Maybe,” Ferd admitted, “but we signed a lease, so you’re stuck with me.”

The door opened, and Claire entered with two small carriers. “Okay,” she said, shutting the door firmly before letting both cats out, “this fluffy orange one is Prospero, and the gray and white shorthair is Mercutio. Now, Prospero’s a bit more playful, but Mercutio’s shy, he takes a little while to…” Claire trailed off as the cat jumped right up into Jonathan’s lap, curled up, and began purring. “Oh,” she said. “I’ve never seen him do that before.”

Gently, Jonathan began stroking the cat’s soft fur. “Mercutio?”

“We have a lot of cats to name, and it’s easier if we pick themes,” Claire explained. “This month it’s Shakespeare. You can rename any cat you adopt of course, most people do.”

“No,” Jonathan said softly, “Mercutio’s perfect for him.”

“Jonathan used to be an actor,” Ferd said. “Did you ever play Mercutio?”

“I was Tybalt once,” Jonathan replied, still petting the cat. “He kills Mercutio in Act Three.”

Claire grinned. “I’m sure this Mercutio won’t hold it against you,” she said. “He can be a bit clingy if he’s left alone too long, but if you’re home most of the day it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jonathan scratched Mercutio’s ear, and the cat’s purring grew louder. It was funny, the creature’s contentment was almost contagious. Jonathan wondered if part of that was his empathic powers, though they’d never worked on animals before, or if that’s just how cats were.

“Mercutio,” Ferd said. He reached over and scratched the cat’s other ear. “More like Mer-cutie-o.” He looked up at Jonathan. “Well? Come on, you need someone keeping an eye on you at home while I’m teaching.”

Jonathan smiled. “You win.”


End file.
